


The Sun

by AnneScriblerian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Ficlet, Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneScriblerian/pseuds/AnneScriblerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George can't seem to fly high enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hp_tarot's 2011 Tarot Fest  
> Card Interpretation: The Sun represents the culmination of all hopes, dreams, and energy. The splendor of the sun draws us forward, and its light and energy bless all of our efforts. Culmination, joy, and brilliance.  
> Author Notes: Sometimes I see the Weasley twins as the fireworks they so love to make: too amazing to stay with us for long. Warning: this is a sad story. Thank you to ravenna_c_tan for everything.

When the dream begins, it is beautiful. Their shining feathers leave trails of sparks on the air, and they both spin until the earth is a green blur beneath them.

Some part of him must know what is coming, but George still enjoys the weightless feeling and the laughter.

Afterwards, he hates himself for this.

The wings are not made of wax. They are made of fireworks and feathers and magic.

The sun is what is always is and always has been. It is entrancing, irresistible, dazzling.

It is the source of all life. It is also death.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They swore that they would always be together. The world and everyone in it was too slow for them. Only the two of them could see the mechanics of the world. They couldn't explain how they knew how to recreate reality and make it magic.

It wasn't that other people were stupid; it was just that other people were blind. Fred and George helped the world be seen: they lit it up like fireworks, like the sun.

Nothing could ever be too bright for them.

Then it was, but only for Fred.

Or maybe for George. He didn't know anymore.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When they were nine, he woke up crying again. Fred was there; he was always there.

"Was it the dream again?"

"You flew so high. You left me behind. Damn it, Fred, you left me behind again!"

"Shhh... It was a dream. I would never, never leave you behind."

George wasn't convinced, but he tried to comfort both of them.

"You wouldn't, I know you wouldn't. It's just a stupid dream." He forced himself to laugh, "I'm getting to old to cry over dreams."

"You're exactly the same age as me."

"That I am."

"And you always will be."

"Yes."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Now, in the dream, instead of his brother, his son flew with him.

This Fred would not fall. He would reach the sun, but it would illuminate him instead of annihilating him.

George never allowed himself to doubt this, even in his dreams. There he was left behind, but it was natural, inevitable.

The son was meant to leave the father behind.

"Did you see me? Slytherin didn't have a chance in hell."

"Language, Fred."

"Yeah, yeah. Did you see me?"

The sun had blinded him.

But he said, "Of course I did. You were brilliant."


End file.
